


Marks

by Townycod13



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, aged-up, homeschool kenny, kyle-centric, wrote in one go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: Having a soul mate is weird, dumb, and complicated. Kyle might be a bit biased though.





	Marks

“Dude, your soul mate is hella weird.”

It was generally considered a rude thing to get a scar. Not that most people ever really tried to get one, but it was certainly looked down upon to have one. The logic was simple.

You weren’t just scarring your own body. Every bruise and cut would appear on your soul mate and they would be stuck with it until it healed.

Or in the case of scars, blemish ones soul mate for life.

Kyle hadn't really had a choice in the matter when his kidney crapped out at a young age.

Some people considered it romantic. He could remember hearing Bebe Stevens wax poetic about a permanent mark on her ankle.

“Just think, _he_ also has this mark too! Same place and everything,” she giggled, “It’s like matching tattoos!”

Kyle thought the whole thing was a little creepy.

First of all, he had his skepticism about the necessity of soul mates to begin with. What purpose did it _really_ serve? Some people got together with people that weren’t their soul mate and were perfectly happy that way. Some people never managed to make it work out with their soul mates despite effort on both sides.

Often he’d see people rely too heavily on the romanticism of a soul mate and forget that a relationship still required _work_. Just because a person was a perfect match for you, didn’t mean you could stop treating them like a person.

Eric Cartman and Heidi Turner had showcased this fact to the entire school before they finally broke it off for good.

Ultimately he thought the entire thing was dumb.

Stan agreed but still eyed himself for marks and Kyle knew the romantic in him was clinging more to the phenomenon than his cynicism should allow him. Stan was weird like that, half hopeless romantic and half obnoxious cynic.

Soul mates or whatever, Kyle would much rather live in a world where no one believed in that nonsense. Or at very least one that didn’t showcase proof with every bruise and cut.

Which was another thing he thought was gross.

Why _injuries_. Of all things to share with a potential life partner, why weird shit like that? If there ware an opt-out option for this system, Kyle would happily sign up.

He might be a bit biased though.

Stan was totally right, his soul mate was _weird_. Whoever they were.

Today too, while playing videogames with Stan, he found himself covered in cuts and bruises and wounds that surely deep enough to scar that were not his own. Sometimes it was a sudden process, all at once, today it was bit by bit.

Stan flinched at the purple patches appearing as the injuries began to look more and more aggressive and horrifying. Kyle tried not to think about it.

There wasn’t anything he could do about it.

He didn’t know who his soul mate was or where the person lived, the only thing he _did_ know was…

“Shiiit, I’m never going to get used to that…” Stan’s perturbed voice informed him that the inevitable had already occurred.

The marks were fading.

The first time it had happened Kyle had cried like no tomorrow. He’d thought what anyone might; whoever was on the other end of this strange connection was dead.

Severe and seemingly crippling injuries followed by a fade? It was like something that appeared in dramas, the fear of how someone might find out they lost a significant other; it was the sort of thing that appeared in nightmares.

But then he continued to get little cuts and bruises.

Some had guessed, initially, that the universe had been merciful and given him a second soul mate. That didn’t hold up very well when the absurd event continued.

At this point there were countless theories on the matter among those that knew. Kyle had finally latched onto the only one that made any damn sense to him.

He had a skin condition.

“Dude, I think they must have gotten beaten to death?”

Kyle sighed, “No, Stan, they didn’t. Because in about a day or so another random mark is going to appear. Face it. It’s not a magical connection to some weird immortal stranger, I just have a shit skin condition.”

That was the other thing. This other person, if there was another person, Kyle did legitimately have his doubts, got injured _a lot_.

If he was totally honest Kyle was really hoping he was right. Death injuries weren’t the only thing that cropped up. Sometimes his soul mate would have heavy and dark bruises dotted across his body for sometime before they healed normally.

He’d looked into it with a few online searches for cases similar to his own. If this was a real person there was a high possibility that they were abused.

That was a bit heavier than Kyle really wanted to deal with. He had his own problems with his parents but he could never imagine either of them striking him in rage.

He did a lot of research on it if he was honest.

That didn’t mean he bought into this soul mate nonsense, he would be sure to correct anyone, he was just a naturally curious person.

Anyone would want to explore the explanations for the causes of such severe injuries.

It was unpleasantly often that the bruises didn't vanish immediately. It was only severe times when that happened. It was much more frequent that there were a few unseen and longer lasting marks under Kyle's clothes.

He didn't like to think about that. Curiosity or not.

So instead he played video games with Stan and reminded himself that soul mates were pointless and dumb. 

\--

That definitely wasn't a kid.

That was a blob of orange.

"Now, kids, I want you all to welcome your new classmate. Kenny McCormick. He's been," Mr. Garrison sniffed his nose in disgust, "Homeschooled until now but now the little faggot is here. So lets all play nice."

An unenthusiastic chime of agreement from lethargic teenagers later and the shapeless blob known as Kenny was directed to his seat.

Kyle couldn't help that he stared. He couldn't understand why other people weren't, the kid was covered from head to toe in orange and--

Blue met his stare and he flushed with embarrassment. Apparently there was a small-uncovered section for the nose and eyes.

Kyle couldn't understand why the kid was wearing such a heavy parka inside the heated classroom.

He looked away first from the raised brow and muffled words that sounded suspiciously like 'what the fuck is your problem?'.

He decided he shouldn't pay attention to McCormick. Nobody else was.

Except at lunch he was totally paying attention to McCormick.

The dude had a little sister; they were completely isolated in a corner of the cafeteria and didn't seem to mind in the least. They had an unsettling lack of food in front of them but they looked like they were gabbing away about their individual days happy enough.

"Kyle? Earth to Kyle?"

He turned his gaze away from the siblings, "What's up, Stan?"

Stan held his gaze with just a touch of judgment, "Dude, you've been staring at the new kid for hours. It's weird. What's with that?"

He shrugged in response, "I dunno... guess I'm just curious why he would wear so much orange? It's kind of glaring. Also he was sleeping through class on his first day which is kinda ballsy, you have to admit. Also, did you notice that neither of them have lunches with them?"

"Do you just have a fascination with homeschoolers?" there was a hint of teasing in Stan’s voice.

Kyle blinked, "What do you mean?"

Stan sighed, twirling a piece of mystery meat on his fork, "When Rebecca and her brother started school in elementary school you got all weird like this too. Didn't you have a huge crush on her? I don't know, dude, I'm just saying it sounds like a pattern."

Before Kyle could insert what an absolutely ridiculous accusation that was, he noticed movement in the McCormick corner and turned his attention back there without any hesitation, "They're leaving! They didn't eat anything, Stan! Isn't that weird?"

"...something's weird, that's for sure." Stan pinched his nose.

Kyle completely missed the casual quip, " _Right_? I wonder if they're having trouble at home..."

" _Or_ , crazy thought here Kyle, they forgot their wallets. First day of school, maybe they were too nervous and got careless. They would also probably rather if someone didn't point out the fact."

Kyle finally deflated in defeat, "Fine. I'm being a little overly intent. I don't have a 'thing' for homeschoolers though. I’m focused on completely different details and it’s not like Rebecca is the only person I’ve shown an interest in before."

Stan accepted the answer easily, returning to his lunch happily now that his besty wasn't acting like a stalker.

\--

 "Damn..."

"Yeah."

"And these appeared after school yesterday? That's just gruesome."

Kyle lowered his shirt, not trusting the green in Stan's face to remain inside of him, "I'm a bit worried actually. You know I don't buy into the soul mate thing overall, but what if only the extreme instances and fades are the skin condition and everything else is an actual person experiencing these injuries?"

If possible, Stan looked even greener, "That's fucked up. I don't want to think there's someone that would do that to someone else."

Kyle nodded in agreement. Getting dressed this morning had been a bit more shaking than he'd been prepared for and the sight of the injuries, burns, lacerations, and other clear signs of torture that marred his chest and back were just a bit more intense than he thought he could handle alone.

Stan wobbled a bit on his feet, "Where does this kid even live? I can't imagine something like that happening here. Is your soul mate across the planet in a secret prison or someshit?"

Kyle wished he had an answer; instead he offered a non-answer and began to make his way out of the bathroom with Stan in toe.

The only hiccup in this plan being the small girl they accidentally walked right into.

She stumbled back, almost falling down completely, but Stan was quick enough to grab hold of a flailing hand and balance her.

"Oh geez, I'm sorry kid, I wasn't looking where I was going. You okay?" Kyle looked down to see if she'd dropped any books but realized she hadn't been carrying any.

Oh. It was the McCormick girl.

She nodded shyly, wriggling her wrist out of Stan's hand before the guy realized he was still holding it.

He still thought his initial assessment of the McCormick's was probably accurate but he'd taken Stan's advice and tried to pay very little attention to the orange blob and skinny girl who never seemed to eat lunch.

Her older brother was nowhere to be seen though. That was strange. They were normally inseparable outside of class.

The girl herself seemed to be shrinking in on herself even further, unsure whether she could go or not and trying not to be seen.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little shaken... did we hurt you in the collision?" it was Stan that piped up, concern laced in his tone.

She shook herself and tried to look even smaller, a little tremor in her body.

Kyle suddenly remembered something he'd read when looking into abused children and felt a bit sick to his stomach at further evidence of his suspicions.

He tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, taking old of Stan's arm to give the girl some space, "We're going to class now. Sorry again for the trouble. We're not mad. See you later, okay?"

She nodded and hurriedly scurried off.

"Dude, what the fuck was that?" Stan's voice showcased a bit more concern than confusion and he knew his friend was also considering Kyle's initial assessment.

Kyle smiled weakly, "Maybe she's just really shy?"

He nodded with clear hope that was the case. 

\--

"Hey, wanna sit with us for lunch?"

It was Stan that spoke. Kyle wondered if yesterdays incident outside the bathroom was weighing on him that much. It weighed on him too, but he didn't want to ask because he'd assumed Stan would judge him for it.

Kenny looked up from his notes (read; doodles of boobs) and muffled back, "Sure, but I sit with my sister."

Everyone knew that.

Stan gave his easy smile that usually calmed people’s nerves, "More the merrier."

Kyle thought maybe the boy somewhere beneath the orange fabric perked up a little. Maybe they should have done this sooner. Stan's assertion aside, the new kids had no friends and it was only polite to try and make them feel welcome.

Kenny nodded.

To Kyle's surprise, Stan whooped at the response, "Oh thank god, my mom made a literal fuckton of cookies and shoved them all in my lunch. No way I can eat them all and Kyle has to watch his sugar intake so I was seriously hoping for some help."

Was that the legitimate truth or was Stan just slyer than Kyle had ever given him credit for? He couldn't decipher the answer at the moment. He knew Stan wasn't much of an actor so maybe that really was his motivation.

"Fuckyeah, I love cookies. Count me in, dude."

The muffle of Kenny's voice sounded excited and Kyle realized he probably wouldn't have been able to pull this off if he tried. He'd have been a bit too awkward or a bit too aggressive and scared the boy further into the coat.

There was an ease to Stan Marsh that tended to bring them out of their shells. Kyle admired it.

When lunch did roll around though, Kyle felt oddly uneasy about it. Even as Kenny and Stan talked animatedly about some TV show Kyle didn't know, he couldn't seem to fight the feeling that something was wrong...

...ah, he caught it. Kenny was limping. It was slight. It wasn't even noticeable. But every third step the orange blob would drag against the ground just a bit.

They picked up Karen right outside her classroom.

To both the surprise of Kyle and Stan she greeted them with a big smile and greeted her brother loudly and happily.

It was day and night from the response yesterday.

"Who are they?" Karen gestured while still hanging off her brother’s arm.

"My classmates. That ones Stan and green hat is Kyle."

Kyle was suddenly struck with the thought that they'd never been formally introduced. It wasn't surprising he knew their names; Kyle raised his hand often enough in class that the teacher had probably drilled the name into peoples heads more than the actual subject.

It felt weird that they all knew each other’s name with no introduction though.

Karen turned a smile to them, "Nice to meet you, I'm Karen!"

"We met yesterday though," Stan pointed out, "Sorry again about bumping into you, kid."

The confusion on her face forced Kyle to realize she hadn't looked up once their entire interaction yesterday.

"Oh," she shrunk slightly and Kyle wanted to thwack Stan for dampening her mood, "Yeah, no biggie."

Kenny laughed and it instantly brightened her face again, "You makin' friends while I'm out sick? Should I stay out more often and see what happens?"

She nudged him for tease and Kyle was pretty sure he was the only one that noticed the blobs slight wince.

They reached the cafeteria and Kyle decided he could be as slick as Stan. It might be too obvious but he couldn't help but notice how loose Karen's clothes were on her.

As soon as he opened his home-packed lunch, he did his best groan.

"What's wrong, dude?" Stan asked while reaching into his own bag for the promised cookies.

"My mom packed me another tuna sandwich..." he pushed it away, "I swear, if this keeps up, I'm never going to be able to look at tuna again. I'm going to grab a slice of pizza, anyone want to help me dispose of the sandwich?"

He really hoped he didn't sound awkward.

The younger McCormick didn't seem to be paying a lick of attention to the socially inept aspects though, hand raised without a shred of hesitation, "I can help!" she couldn't hide the eagerness in her voice.

He almost let out a sigh of relief; he really wasn't good at subtlety at all.

Almost, and then spotted blue eyes watching him quizzically.

Apparently the older McCormick was a bit more suspicious if the searching look was any indication. He smiled uneasily in return and stood up to go buy the nasty cafeteria pizza he had doomed himself to. He would miss his tuna sandwich but there would be many more for him in the future .

\--

It became somewhat regular to have lunch with the McCormick’s. Karen, they'd found, had endless confidence around her brother but tended to whither away when alone.

It was quite a bit of satisfaction when she started to open up to them even when Kenny was missing.

Which happened a lot.

At least once a week Kenny was gone because of sickness or other commitments. They hadn't gotten up the guts to ask either of the ex-homeschoolers specifically why but for probable different reasons.

Stan was apparently still of the opinion that it was rude as heck to pry into their lives. Kyle just feared what he'd find.

Kyle had started pretending to hate a lot of sandwiches. Stan brought his moms baking a few times a week.

Karen seemed to think she struck lucky. Kenny had a knowing look but ultimately said nothing.

It was a nice balance.

"Your little brother goes here too?" Karen stared at him like he had another head, "Where is he?" she looked around as if thinking he'd been there the entire time and she just somehow hadn't noticed him.

Kyle laughed, "He'd rather be caught dead than having lunch with his 'grandpa' of an older brother."

Her eyebrows furrowed and it was clear that she couldn't quite conceive of a sibling turning down the others attention, "He's weird. No offense."

She was oddly blunt like that sometimes. Kyle figured it had something to do with the social isolation of homeschooling.

Stan joined in, "He is, actually, but the dudes also a little genius! Skipped a grade or two if I recall."

Kyle smiled at that. He could always take pride in the little shits genius... even if he kind of hated being called grandpa with every fiber of his being.

"Kenny wanted to skip a grade," Karen piped in, "He said then he could get out of having to go at all. Skip straight through senior year and to graduation."

"He didn't want to go to high school?" it was Kyle's turn to sound puzzled.

Karen took a generous bite of today's PB&J, "He wants to work. He already has to take a lot of time off work for classes. It's a 'total fucking waste of time' in his opinion."

"Huh, I didn't know he was working." It was strange how little he knew about Kenny despite sitting with the guy most days for lunch.

Karen bobbed her head, "Yeah, he's actually working today! Auto-shop repairs."

There was a clear amount of pride in her voice and neither of the older teens had the heart to think about the implications, so Stan changed the subject to Karen's own thoughts on school. 

\--

He hadn’t meant to end up alone with the orange blob. He wasn’t even sure what they could talk about. His plan to force Stan to actually study for next weeks test had completely backfired in his face.

He suspected that Stan and Kenny had worked together on this. A plan to escape the library dungeon that Kyle had prepared for Stan’s displeasure and as an extra bonus, leave Kyle completely unable to complain about it.

Stan couldn’t come to the study hell room because he was much too busy showing Karen around to clubs. It was his responsibility as a part of the student council, he lied, helping new students get comfortable.

The excitement on Karen’s face at the prospect of looking at clubs and maybe make friends that weren’t her brothers age was something he couldn’t trample on. Period.

Don’t worry, Stan had said, you and Kenny can study together!

But surprise, surprise, Kenny was intent on doodling instead of actually studying. Kyle caved, closing his textbook.

“That was fast, all ready for that test?” the blob muffled out.

Smartass…

“I was always ready for the test, this was supposed to be to prep Stan for it. Or you if you weren’t already so intent on anatomy.”

Kenny shrugged and he could see the crinkles of a smile taking hold of the parts of his face that were visible, “When in doubt, study what you’re interested in.”

“Uh-huh, and are you taking anatomy?” Kyle noted that some of sketches weren’t actually terrible if you ignored the content.

“If I said I was more on the art appreciation side of education, would that be so bad? Artists need someone to appreciate them, they’ll whither into nothing otherwise. With no artists, there would be no TV, with no TV society would crumble, I’m pretty sure. Is that what you want, Kyle?”

“That’s some pretty slippery-slope logic you’ve got there, dude.” It was a losing battle to pretend it wasn’t entertaining logic though, “Also, I’m pretty sure it isn’t art appreciation if you’re the one drawing it.”

Kenny gasped dramatically, hand over his chest as if Kyle had stung him and Kyle’s eyes were drawn away from the overly detailed pictures with his over the top stage whisper, “Are you suggesting that artists shouldn’t appreciate themselves?! For shame, Kyle. I never knew your soul was so callous!”

Kyle didn’t think before he acted and elbowed the other boy lightly, “You know what I mean.”

He didn’t miss the grimace in Kenny’s face and withdrew his elbow guiltily. Had he hit an actual injury? Or was the motion so familiar to Kenny in other context that he flinched out of habit? Either way, Kyle felt like an asshole.

Kenny’s face immediately brightened though, so much so that Kyle wasn’t sure if what he’d seen was real or not, “A bully too! You have something against artists, Kyle?”

Deflection.

Kenny was definitely better at it than him or Stan but he could still see it.

“I have nothing against artists, just bone-heads that don’t study for tests and ditch me for ‘art appreciators’.”

“Ouch, that burns, Broflovski. But I’m glad that Marsh is your primary target. Should we join forces?”

So good at it that it was impossible for melancholy to stay for very long at all. A joke, a tease, a ploy, he’d prod and pry until he found something that put a smile on Kyle’s face.

\--

Kyle woke up in the middle of the night to the odd sensation that marks always left. It wasn't painful, just a tingle that was easily ignored... so long as it wasn't all over his body.

Tonight too, the marks faded away but Kyle felt sick at the sight.

He'd always tried to view the issue of his potential soul mate in pain as 'not his problem'. 'That he just had a skin condition. That even if it was some poor abused kid across the planet stuck in a torture chamber it really had nothing to do with him.

But he saw the way Kenny limped sometimes and the bruises on Karen's arms, when her shirt hiked up. The thinness of their bodies and the way Karen still flinched when Stan went to pat her head.

Kenny's untrusting eyes and flippancy towards education.

Karen's shy laugh and Kenny's dirty jokes.

They were good kids. Normal kids. They didn't deserve their situation.

There was no escaping it though. He knew from his research that he needed them to confess to an authority for the state to get involved but he knew that wasn't happening.

There was a high chance of them being separated if they were removed from their home and neither of the McCormick would ever agree to that condition.

He couldn't think of any other way of helping them though. Stan urged him to mind his own business. He felt sick at the thought.

But that's what he'd already been doing, wasn't it? All these years that he looked at his own marks from an unknown soul mate and telling himself 'it's none of my business' and 'there's nothing i could do anyway'.

His soul mate could be someone like Karen, small and scared of the world without her brother’s support. Someone like Kenny, shouldering too much responsibility and always ensuring his sister ate her full before he had a bite of anything.

It could be a person with no siblings at all to soften the blows. Or worse, siblings that banded with the other side.

The thought sickened him.

There was a person out there that needed help.

He bit his lip. He'd had one idea for a long time now but it always struck him as too drastic. He'd heard that people had done it but it seemed so... gut churning to him.

He couldn't stomach this anymore though.

With an odd determination he found the razorblade he normally used for school projects and set to work. 

\--

It was a few days before he'd received a response. He wondered if the message was received at all in that time. He'd put it on his hip in hopes of it being easy to conceal but what if his soul mate never looked there?

With all the pain the regular bruising probably produced, would he notice the slight tingle from the message?

He hadn't dug in deep. Just enough for a streak of red to spell the words 'are you okay?'

When the answer finally came, it was simple and plain. So simple but it destroyed every hope Kyle had of just having a 'skin condition'.

 _NO_ it read in sloppy and deeper cuts.

His breath came in short bursts at the sight of the word. When he tried to remind himself against hyperventilating he noticed the wet build up in his eyes.

He was a goner from there.

Kyle cried for a long time, he was so distraught that when morning came his mother insisted he stay home sick.

Years. He'd had these marks appear on and off for years and never reached out. He wondered if Karen or Kenny's soul mates ever reached out.

Probably. Kyle was probably the only asshole that could look at these obvious signs and decide it wasn't his business. He hated himself in that time.

Decided that he was probably the worst soul mate anyone had ever had.

There was a knock at his door.

"Kyle, bubbie, your friends are here to visit you."

Stan flanked by the two McCormicks was the last thing he wanted to see. All at once he was reminded of every reason he found himself despicable. He tried not to show it though.

"Hey dude, how're you feeling? I thought I'd bring you the math homework, I know you hate falling behind on assignments."

Kyle nodded, "Thanks, I'm okay, just a migraine..."

Karen inched further into the room cautiously eyeing the place like it was a spaceship, "Are you feeling better now?"

Kyle nodded and brought his eyes up to Kenny who was watching him impassively. He could never tell if the orange blob liked him or just tolerated him to hang out with Stan.

"Do you want us to head out?" Kenny offered, misunderstanding his look.

Kyle shook his head, finally detangling himself from his blob of blankets, "Nah, it's probably better for me to get up. Too much rest is just as bad as not enough."

"Oh, shit, Kyle are you okay?"

It was Karen, tugging him down and gesturing to a large bruise on his arm. She was jittering all of a sudden, looking around like an attacker was still hidden somewhere.

Stan laughed easily to diffuse the situation, patting the kids head, "Nah, that's just Kyle's soul mate. Whoever it is gets banged up pretty often."

"Oh..." Karen eyed the bruise critically, "It looks terrible... are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

Kyle shook his head, "Only tingled a bit when it appeared. I'm more worried about whoever received it..." a bit more of his sincere concern leaked into his tone than he meant to let escape and Karen gripped his hand to comfort him.

Kyle really understood why Kenny was so protective of his sister. The kid was an absolute angel.

"Don't worry. I'm sure they'll heal up fine." it was Kenny's muffled voice and Kyle looked up at him half-expecting scorn.

He felt like he deserved it. All day he'd felt like he deserved it. Someone to tell him what a bad person he was.

Kenny was watching him with an indescribable expression.

He looked away first.

There was a knock on the door and his mother arrived with snacks that immediately tore Karen's attention from the bruise. This could be fine. Maybe he could have them all stay a bit longer and play some video games.

Maybe some of the guilt in his stomach would ease up.

\--

He wasn’t expecting to see another response. It was bad enough he’d done such a thing once; it was unthinkable that the act of messages engraved in flesh would be repeated.

Especially since the person on the other end clearly had more than enough pain in their life.

_Are you?_

It was a bit gentler this time. It was sill the jagged lines of writing text into a hip, but they weren’t as deep or angry looking.

Kyle suddenly reflected why it had taken so long for the initial reply.

How did you answer a question like that? Honestly but to a stranger?

Was he okay? Was he ever okay?

He could easily see he was more ‘okay’ than his ‘pen pal’ but it somehow still didn’t feel right to lie.

His soul mate had carved words into their own flesh to ask the question, giving them a flippant ‘yeah, im fine’ would be disrespectful.

How did a person _honestly_ answer that question to begin with? Society had drilled the polite and correct answers to that question deeper than bone. Truthful answers were considered unusual or even rude.

Kyle had debated his answer for days and felt alarm when the mark with the question started to fade with healing.

In a panic, he gave the only answer he could.

 _I don’t know_  

\--

The blob of orange was looking at him again. It happened more frequently lately. Kyle didn’t know how he felt about it. He did know that he now felt an acute guilt for the time he’d spent staring when Kenny first transferred in.

It was really uncomfortable to have someone just stare at you. He wondered a bit if Kenny was actually doing it as revenge for that exact act.

He didn’t like losing though, so often they ended up in staring contests. It was stupid.

Stan made fun of them for it.

“Dude, you guys literally just spent the entirety of class glaring at each other. I think the teacher was worried you’d start killing each other or making out.”

Karen giggled, “Put my money down on both.”

Kenny nodded sagely, “A sexy death? I could live with that. Kyle, you down?”

Kyle sputtered and neither choked on the apple he’d been chewing on. Stan’s sympathetic back pats would have helped more if he couldn’t read his friend like a book.

His eyes sparkled with the taunt ‘you _totally_ have a thing for homeschoolers’.

It wasn’t like that. It really wasn’t. Kyle barely even knew Kenny that well yet. Most of their time spent together was always in a group and Stan did most of the talking.

Well, if Kyle wasn’t ranting about something. But that didn’t really count as a conversation as that tended to be pretty one-sided.

Kenny would generally plop his head onto his resting hands and listen quietly. Kyle wondered if the guy was genuinely interested or just a million miles away in his head.

Finally he could breathe again, “It’s not like that…” he defended weakly.

Karen smiled sweetly, “It’s okay, Kyle, you don’t have to hide it. I understand you want to do this properly, the old fashioned way, so I want you to know I that approve of the wedding. You may have my brothers hand in marriage.”

When had she become such a sass-master? Maybe she’d always been on the inside she was just finally comfortable enough to express it. Kyle couldn’t even feel any joy over that because Kenny was swooning dramatically.

“Did you hear that, babe? We can get hitched! Oh, I’m so excited! Stan, you _have_ to help me pick out a dress!”

Stan, his good friend, his best pal, his only ally, was busy guffawing at his expense.

Kyle seriously needed new friends.

Well, if they wanted to play…

“Oh, Stan,” Kyle gritted out, “You _have_ to be my maid of honor. I have _just_ the dress picked out.”

Finally, there was a merciful end to the giggles as Stan stared in horror. Karen on the other hand completely lost it and Kenny was snickering endlessly.

“So wait,” Karen managed, “Does that mean you’re both brides?”

Kenny looked thoughtful, “Well, I mean, I have to be a bride. These hips don’t lie, my friends. As for Kyle,” he gave a long up and down look, Kyle felt distinctly uncomfortable, “Yeah, he’d be a good bride. Lesbian wedding, here we go!”

Kyle tried to ignore the warmth rushing to his cheeks and tried desperately to think of a witty response. He wasn’t good at this kind of exchange. He could quip back in angry debates or defeat anyone in an intellectual argument, but flirty wit escaped him.

Flirty wit?

His mind reviewed the entire conversation with horror, was this all a joke or flirtation? He wasn’t sure. He knew that Stan thought he had a crush but that was just Stan being a little shit.

Did the McCormick’s think he was flirting? He had no idea.

He realized he must of paused for too long and made the deduction that the only thing that make this situation worse was if he made it awkward.“Only if Karen picks out the rings.” He tried weakly. He was lucky that his audience already had a bad case of giggle fever over the nonsense so that was enough to push the jovial mood further. No one questioned his stiffness.

Except Kenny. The guy was still eyeing him thoughtfully through his snickers.

Kyle decided after that to refrain from turning Kenny’s stares into a contest. 

\--

“Did you know if you study too much your brain will explode? True story.”

Stan had taken to ditching studying more often now that he knew he could get away with it so long as he used a Karen based excuse. Kyle cursed his own weakness on the matter but it wasn’t the end of the world to get stuck with Kenny.

Except he’d had to give up on the library, it got too disruptive with the orange blobs dramatics and Kyle didn’t want to risk being banned.

So instead it was the local coffee shop manned by a twitchy schoolmate that Kyle couldn’t recall ever having spoken to one-on-one. Kenny hadn’t ordered anything, professing to being a devout tea lover.

‘I only enter this sacrilegious establishment in the name of our friendship, I hope you know that’ he’d said the first time.

“Cite your sources or it didn’t happen.” Kyle replied easily to the quip.

Kenny toyed with balancing a pen on his fingertip, “Why do you always ask for sources? Can’t I just say bullshit? You’re stifling my creativity.”

“So you’re thinking of majoring in philosophy?”

That earned a slight giggle that knocked over Kenny’s pen attempts, “Could be! Don’t I look like a young Plato?”

“I’m going to assume that means that you’re hiding a large beard and toga under the parka.”

Kenny waggled his eyebrows in that way he did, it was utterly distracting, “Could be.“

“Alright, future professional bullshiter, impress upon me the wisdom of the universe.”

It was extremely likely that Kenny had been angling for an opportunity to do just that, one way or another, because the boy was _far_ too prepared for this moment. Everything in the blob’s posture straightened and he looked meaningfully into the distance.

“Now, most people are of the opinion that big boobs are in fact better, but I am here to explain that all boobs are in fact amazing. It’s important to understand before we proceed that the appeal of breasts is not just to be soft lumps that make everyone happy but rather the _meaning_ behind them. Life, growth, protecting our species development in our early years. Now that we’ve briefly reviewed the glory of areas historical value, I will thoroughly explain why mid-size boobs and even exceptionally small boobs are also super great—stop laughing and start taking notes, Kyle, god why are you such a terrible student—now one of the things people never remember about the no-boobs, also known as males, is that their boobs are also great. They are usually less soft and fluffy but can be—Kyle, you’re disturbing the other customers, I’m going to kick you out of my class if you can’t behave—where was I? Ah, the philosophy of a titty.”

They got kicked out. 

\--

“…is it true that your soul mate is injured often?”

It was just him and Karen today.

Kenny was at work and Stan had been dragged away to student council responsibilities.

Kyle tried to think of a good answer. It was a sensitive topic, how was he supposed to answer it without accidentally putting his foot in his mouth? Karen looked so worried too, biting her lip and looking around her with anxiety. Worry flashing through her eyes every time she glanced up at him.

His eyes widened a bit when he realized what she was really asking.

“Yes,” he said in what he hoped was a convincing level of confidence, “It’s… well, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t scary sometimes, thinking about why they might be getting injured, but it’s something I’m used to, I guess.”

He felt like that was the wrong thing to say as soon as it came out. Karen looked less worried but sort of put out.

At least she was less concerned that the bruises were his.

“Do you think that they’re, uh, okay?”

Kyle really wished there was an easy answer to that. One that wouldn’t worry the girl more.

He tried to smile but it came out as a grimace, “No, I don’t.”

“Oh…”

It was quiet for a bit and Kyle could swear he’d never seen her eat a ham sandwich with less enthusiasm.

“Do you know who they are?” she asked finally.

Kyle shook his head, “If I did, I’d have already picked them up and wrapped them in bubble wrap.”

It was the first time he’d said something right. She brightened up a bit with a polite giggle, “I can see you doing that.”

“I should probably wrap you and Kenny in bubble wrap while I’m at it.” He joked.

She froze.

Fuck.

He hadn’t been thinking. Or rather he’d been thinking too hard.

The traces of bruises, limps, the lack of food, and the torn clothes were all topics that were never addressed between the four of them. It had always been clear the McCormick’s didn’t want to talk about it.

Karen looked sick and panicked. He was genuinely concerned that she’d be re-tasting ham soon.

“I—why would you wrap us up?” she tried to make her tone light and puzzled, but she flinched at her own tone. She knew what she sounded like.

Kyle felt like a bastard.

They didn’t want to talk about their home life and they didn’t want their friends to know about it.

Kyle forced a smile that he hoped was light, “Uh, I noticed that sometimes you have bruises on your arms. I figure clumsiness must be a McCormick trait because I’ve seen your orange blob of a brother bump into desks often enough.”

He didn’t sound convincing even in his own ears, but at least Karen looked somewhat relieved at the out.

“Y-yeah,” she breathed, “I’m, uh, really clumsy too. Tripping a lot and stuff. I was just surprised you noticed.”

He wondered if he’d made a mistake. He didn’t want to corner Karen into talking about it but was it really good to encourage her to lie about it?

There were no right answers.

He knew he didn’t want her scared of him or to hurt her more than she clearly already was.

A tingling sensation on his knuckles informed him of a new mark. Desperate for a way to change the tone of conversation he brought his attention to it.

The was a burn, red and bubbling a bit with a laceration in the middle.

“What on earth could cause this…?”

Karen brightened, “Oh! Actually that can happen when you’re cooking actually! Kenny gets them sometimes when he works at City Wok. He said that it happens if you accidentally press your hand to the edge of a pan. I guess your soul mate cooks?”

Kenny guessed that there were some further complications to the burn. Probably oil involved due to the amount of red and definitely more than just a tap for the cut to look that deep. But Karen’s assertion of cooking still seemed to work.

“Huh, good to know I guess. I’m a bit hopeless in the kitchen.”

Karen deflated just a bit again and he felt like he’d said something wrong again, he felt confident enough to ask though, “What’s wrong?”

She was looking away, “What do you think of soul mates?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she twiddled her hands uncomfortably, “I mean, I know they’re supposed to be ‘perfect for you’ and stuff but like, do you plan on marrying your soul mate? Even though you’ve never met them?”

He tried to puzzle through why this was bothering her but decided to just answer honestly, if he put his foot in his mouth all over again he’d just have to deal, “I think that I’d like to get to know them. At least be friends if we get along. I don’t really think it’s a necessity to get together though. I mean, just because we’re ‘destined’ for each other doesn’t necessarily mean we’d be good for each other, right?”

The tension in her shoulders eased, “Right.” She confirmed with a little smile.

Kyle suddenly wondered if her parents were soul mates. That could certainly build some complex feelings on the matter.

He decided to try and lighten the mood just a bit more.

“Besides, I’ve already been promised to your brother. I can’t opt out of our amazing lesbian wedding and rob you of the opportunity of giving Kenny away.”

That got the first sincere laugh of the lunch period and Kyle felt some of his own tension drain away 

\--

“I hear you and Karen have been planning our wedding,” Kenny waggled his eyebrows, “Eager much?”

Kyle rolled his eyes pushed Kenny’s shoulder gently, “Only because I get to see Stan in his hot pink brides maid dress.”

“Oh, honey, we should add some bows. And a flower crown! He would look _adorable_.” Kenny cooed.

“Ha ha.” Stan said dryly.

“Hey, dude, you started this.” Kyle pointed out, “So you have to wear the damn dress.”

“Technically, Karen started it. Why does she get to wear a tux?” Stan whined.

Karen grinned devilishly, “Because none of you losers could pull off the look as good as me. It’d be embarrassing for you. Really, I’m doing you a favor.”

Kenny offered his little sister a fist bump for the sass, clear pride in his eyes. She was going to grow into a monster under his tutelage.

The jokes were more comfortable and easy now. Kyle was more confident now that it was joke.

He was also a little more comfortable with the idea of it having some flirtation involved in it as well.

Just a bit.

Kenny was easy and friendly, a bit hard to read but an interesting guy to have around. He didn’t like that Kenny seemed to be better at reading him than vice versa but he figured if he put more effort into their friendship that should remedy itself easily enough.

Hell if he’d admit that to Stan though, the guy would never let up on the homeschool thing 

\--

It was awhile before another large bruise had formed. For a few weeks now it had been minor injuries and tiny scratches. Nothing difficult to hide, though on occasion it was in an inconvenient location. Sometimes he was really jealous of his orange blob of a friend. Every inch of him was covered except for that tiny bit of his face; he never had to worry about if a scarf would look suspicious.

Kyle generally liked to keep his marks hidden. He didn’t want questions like Karen’s, that echoed an ‘are you sure it wasn’t your parents that did this?’ or people speculating what he had already figured out about his soul mate.

It was just private to him.

Today he woke up with the largest black eye he had ever seen. There were some cuts on his cheeks too and a closer inspection showed the bruises of hands around his throat.

It felt like it was actually choking him for just a moment. Knowing that someone had pressed so hard that the hands left purple bruises.

He couldn’t hide these injuries. Not without looking like a mummy.

He considered it lucky that it was Sunday and he could just hide in his room all day but what was he going to do tomorrow? He’d become rather familiar with the heal rate of bruises and these looked like they were staying for awhile.

A tingling at his thigh brought his attention away from the problem of Monday’s class.

_sorry_

It was written so soft and small. Kyle wanted to cry.

Why were they apologizing? It wasn’t something they should have to feel sorry over.

Why was the world unfair enough that some poor bastard who got the shit beaten out of him felt the need to carve a fucking apology in his skin over it because of some bullshit system of fucked up destiny that some god probably thought was a funny way to fuck with humans?

Why did he feel so miserable over a complete stranger?

Why did he keep imagining these brutal injuries on Kenny or Karen and feel even sicker to his stomach.

He retrieved the razor from his desk. This needed an immediate response.

He couldn’t let someone feel so alone and miserable.

He couldn’t let them endure this alone and feel bad that they had _inconvenienced_ a stranger with their injuries.

He couldn’t think of the words. He wanted to write an essay to explain exactly why he would never, could never, hold this against the mystery person. That he wanted to protect them. That he hated that this was happening to them and he wanted to help.

It wasn’t practical. He cursed his tendency to be long-winded. How could he say everything he wanted to in the limited space and pain tolerance?

The fire inside him couldn’t hold back much longer though. He had to write something.

_dont worry its ok_

_need help?_

The reply was immediate but written slow.

_No_

What could he say to that?

He couldn’t ask them to be careful or take care of themselves, clearly that wasn’t an option.

He was still debating what could be done when writing began to fade.

So were the bruises around his neck.

His mouth felt dry, there was a tingle on the side of his head. He liften his hair aside just in time to see the fading injury.

A very particular kind of circular injury.

He couldn’t breathe.

This was the first fade he’d had when it was confirmed that he was talking to a person. A real person.

A person that just got shot in the head.

…a person that might have just shot themselves in the head.

He couldn’t breathe.

He felt like a part of his heart drained away as the injuries faded out.

He couldn’t move. His reflection looked empty.

He felt empty.

He couldn’t breathe.

Was that it?

Was the person on the other end really dead this time?

Were the other times a skin condition? Was it always death? What could possibly explain this?

Did he just lose his soul mate? A person that wasn’t okay but still apologized for injuries they clearly had no control over? A person that lived a hard life?

A person he might never meet?

He couldn’t breathe.

And when he could it all came out in a choked sob.

Was it his fault? Because he’d spent so long asserting that it was all bullshit and none of his business?

Would Kenny or Karen end this way? Guilty over injuries they couldn’t control and taking their own lives in a final assertion of control?

The thought brought life to another wretched sob. And another. And another.

When Ike came to check up on him, he was already beyond consolation.

\--

“Dude, I thought you were over the whole ‘staring at Kenny’ thing.”

Kyle chewed his bottom lip to ease the stress, “It isn’t like that… I’m just… kinda worried.”

Stan blinked and brought his gaze to the siblings that were happily retrieving something from a locker, “What for? He looks fine to me.”

“Have you ever wondered why he covers himself up from head to toe? Sometimes he limps a little, you know. Yesterday when Karen nudged him, he winced like it was actually painful.”

“Dude, I already told you. You shouldn’t pry. If they’re ready to talk about it, that’s cool. But cornering them and speculating about them is just kinda douchey.”

Kyle turned to glare at Stan, “What if by doing that we’re just sitting back and letting bad things happen to them? What if they need help now and we’re just sitting our thumbs and pretending not to see for our own convenience?”

Stan took a step back at the sudden intensity, “Dude, I’m not saying it's a great option, but how would you feel in their shoes if someone tried to force help down your throat?”

“It’s better than the alternative, Stan!”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice that much.

“What alternative?” Karen piped up, having made her way over while the two were chatting. Kenny was behind her with an easy look on his face.

Kyle couldn’t take this right now.

“Nothing! It’s nothing! Since Stan thinks its nothing, _clearly_ it’s fucking nothing!” he slammed his own locker door and stormed off, ignoring the looks of surprise and the way Karen had flinched back from his aggressive voice like she’d been struck.

The way Kenny looked from easy to upset.

The confusion and agitation on Stan’s face.

He couldn’t do this right now.

He hid in the bathroom during 5th period, skipping for his first time ever. He didn’t know how to reign in his emotions and he couldn’t face the fall out of his own explosion.

What if Karen was scared of him now?

What if Kenny hated him for scaring his sister?

What if Stan had enough of his shit and decided being besties with Kenny was less stressful?

He couldn’t do today. He avoided them for the rest of the day. 

\--

Apologizing was luckily not something that Kyle struggled with. That didn’t mean it was easy for him but reflection and time and a willingness to admit when he’d gone too far allowed him to swallow his signify pride on most issues and admit he was wrong.

His attempt to make amends were some truly terrible sandwiches he tried to make. The McCormick’s were still appreciative and Karen in particular assured him that it was nothing and he didn’t have to even bother apologizing.

Kyle felt like that attitude was the entire reason he _had_ to apologize. She couldn’t grow thinking it was okay for people to snap around her like that.

He admitted he over-reacted to Stan and in predictable Stan fashion, he accepted it easily. Kyle didn’t feel like he deserved such understanding friends.

Even more typically, Stan quickly geared the subject away from the issue, “By the way, speaking of angry outbursts, I haven’t seen Cartman in ages.”

Kyle blinked, now that he thought about it… he’d been focused on the McCormick’s since they’d shown up he’d barely noticed the disappearance of the schools biggest asshole, “Last I checked he was taking some time off school because of everything that went down with Heidi… but that was ages ago now, he can’t still be at home?”

Stan shrugged but started to look a bit concerned, dude was too soft sometimes, “Maybe he transferred?”

Kyle snorted, “We can only hope.”

“Who’s Cartman?”

It was an innocent question and if it was about anyone else, it would be an easy one to answer. As it was the two looked at each other in contemplation. How did they answer Karen’s question?

Finally Kyle decided that simple was best, “He’s an asshole. Just be happy you haven’t met him.”

That was all they spoke on the matter but Kyle felt a bit uneasy about it. He remembered Cartman’s constant suicide threats as his and Heidi’s relationship fell apart.

Normally he wouldn’t take it seriously but the memory of the fading circular injury and the implications behind it were still fresh in his mind.

Cartman might be full of shit most every day of the week but some people really did take their own lives.

He couldn’t even decide how he felt if Cartman was one of them. The student body would have been informed if something like that happened though. He knew that Cartman _hadn’t_ , logically speaking, but he also felt an unfamiliar sprig of concern for the asshole.

It was the knowledge that if Cartman _did_ do something to himself, he did it blaming his ‘soul mate’, the person that was _supposed_ to be ‘perfect’ for him. The person that he couldn’t meet him halfway and he wouldn’t meet halfway.

The eroded relationship between the two driving him over an edge.

Suddenly, there was a soft gloved hand on his shoulder. Kyle blinked out of his stupor. Kenny was giving him a sympathetic look, “You okay, dude?”

He smiled, a bit shakier than intended, “Yeah… just, thinking too much.”

Kenny shrugged, not intent on pushing the issue. Kyle still felt the concerned gaze for awhile afterward though 

\--

The first new knick that appeared on his thumb was met with such relief he couldn’t contain a slight whoop. Stan gave him a confused look and Kyle remembered they were in a library.

He couldn’t be blamed for this, he couldn’t, he felt like a terrible weight was lifted. He felt like life might be okay again. That he hadn’t inadvertently caused someone’s death by being an insensitive ass.

It was impossible to recall a moment when he’d been more relieved.

It lasted for all about two minutes before it brought an even more important question to the table, one that he’d been avoiding for a long time.

What the _fuck_ was with the fade?

Any doubt he’d had that it was brought about because of his partners death had been shattered by the head injury he’d witnessed.

He remembered the theory that he was constantly switching partners. Maybe through some fuckup in creation he kept getting paired with the soon to die. Maybe every new injury after a fade was some new abuse victim. Maybe he didn’t have a soul mate and he was just a temporary placeholder for those that were so doomed that it’d be cruel to pair them with anyone else.

He dreaded to think what that might mean for him, that perhaps he was chosen for that role because he too was only meant to stay on earth for a short time.

He needed to find out if the mark on his thumb was caused by the same person he’d talked to before the last fade.

It wouldn't help to keep making random assumptions and guessing on the consequences of his actions, if there were even any.

Maybe he was haunted, he had no way of knowing until he started actively asking questions and seeking answers.

"You've been staring at your finger for like, 10 minutes now. Are you okay?" Stan's asked.

"Yeah... sorry. I don't know, I've just been thinking a lot more about this whole 'soul mate' thing lately."

"Huh," Stan frowned, "Is this because of Kenny?"

How did Stan manage to get so thoroughly off topic? "No, why?"

Stan shifted uncomfortably, "I kinda thought you had a thing for him?"

"Oh come on dude, can you please get off that. No, I don't have a 'thing' for homeschoolers, jeez."

"I didn't mean like that. I mean, just Kenny. I mean, dude, you guys joke about getting married and shoving me in a terrible dress. Not to mention that whole 'constantly watching each other' thing. Also come on dude, you love sandwiches."

Damn Stan for being observant. Kyle frowned, "I don't really know Kenny that well yet. I mean he's nice and he's a good older brother, when he's not training her in the ways of evil, but I wouldn't say I have a 'thing'. I'd have to get to know him better."

Stan slid his head down to rest on the table in frustration, "Oh my _god_ , why are you always so serious about this stuff? You do know you can just have a crush on someone based on looks or--"

"--don't know what he looks like under the parka!" Kyle interjected unhelpfully.

"--other random shit like that. I remember having a crush on a girl because she had a cute laugh. That was it. I liked the laugh. You don't have to be committed, in love, and on your way to a chapel just to try dating, dude."

Kyle huffed, "I think it's important to know more about a person before you invest in them emotionally."

"Okay, fine Mr. Stubborn. Let's see what you know about Kenny." Stan was likely only pushing this far out of frustration but Kyle was pushing back for that very same reason so they were a zero sum of petty.

"Dude, I don't want to--"

"Full name?"

"Kenny McCormick. Easy. Done. We don't need to do this."

"Hobbies?"

Curse Stan and his BFF knowledge. Kyle couldn't resist quizzes.

"Uhh... reading 'for the articles', comic books, and drawing boobs?"

"You forgot video games."

"That doesn't count as a hobby, literally everyone loves video games."

"Touché. Life goals?"

"I don't know, he's pretty invested in Karen and I'm pretty sure he's helping to support his family, so probably something to do with her. Oh, also I think he might be interested in psychology, he's actually awake in that class and sometimes even takes notes that aren't pornographic."

"Personality?"

"Uhhh... fun? He makes a lot of jokes to ease moods but he's also pretty good at reading people? Like when shit gets tense he's usually the first one to crack the tension or ease people. I think he might have a more serious side to be honest but he holds his cards pretty close to his chest. He's a bit secretive about stuff and I think he dislikes pity. He's generally tactile as well, especially if he gets more comfortable around you. He also hides when he's in pain a lot, I've caught him limping a few times now or looking like he's recovering from something but if he notices that I noticed he immediately sucks it up and pretends everything is fine. Which is kinda annoying, I wish he'd just ask for help or complain if he's having a bad day, I mean shit, I can't do much but if he's having a rough time I could give him a Tylenol or something. Or I could just listen if he wants to complain. He doesn't have to keep all that shit to himself, damnit, he listens well enough when I get on one of my damn rants. Which is another thing, he actually listens when I rant?--"

"Kyle."

"--Which is weird. No one does that. I thought he was just spacing out for a long time but then in later conversations he'll bring up something I said and just... I don't know, it was nice to know he was actually listening I guess. And I'm starting to wonder if the dude even knows what a temper is? I've never seen him get even annoyed over stuff and I know I can be pretty obnoxious--"

"Kyle."

"What?" Kyle snapped.

"Dude, you just gave me an exhaustively long description of Kenny. I would have been okay with 'he's a funny dude'. That's all I would probably be able to say about him. Are you totally sure you don't already have a thing for him?" Stan didn't need an answer, he was just being a shit.

Damnit, he'd fallen straight into Stan's trap.

"Okay, _maybe_ I'm a bit interested. That doesn't mean anything, yet, but I wouldn't be opposed to getting to know him better I guess."

"...seems like you already know him more than well enough, my god that was a lot of information."

"Well, that's all moot anyway. Who's to say Kenny's even interested?"

Stan opened his mouth to respond but paused, "Fair point... I mean I would say he's flirting as much as you are, but he's kinda a flirtatious dude in general. I don't know, he's hard to read."

Kyle groaned, displeased with how disappointed he was with the answer. Maybe Stan was right, maybe he was already more invested than he realized.

\--

He had to decide on a question.

What question could he ask that could answer whether, for sure, this was the same person from before the fade? He didn't want to play 20 questions on his leg, partially because cutting little scrapes into words was a bit darker than he was really comfortable with and partially because he didn't want to make his soul mate do the same.

One question. What was one _good_ question that would tell him what he wanted to know?

Even more difficult, he wanted to ask something that gave him answers. All the answers. Who was his correspondent? Where did they live? What was their situation that was so awful?

Kyle knew it couldn't be someone in South Park, he would have heard about someone getting literally beaten to death on a semi-regular basis and still waking up in the morning.

Wouldn't he?

He was suddenly a bit less sure, the knowledge that he'd never known about the McCormick's before they started school with him. Were there other people he didn't know about?

A tangent. Not a helpful one at that. He forced himself to focus. He had to keep this simple. He sighed, other shit could wait, for now he just needed at least one answer.

_why did you apologize?_

He winced at his handiwork. He'd gotten pretty good at barely grazing his skin but still creating red bumps that spelled words. 'Apologize' was unpleasantly difficult though. He was a bit concerned as to whether or not it was even legible.

It wouldn't give him all the answers he needed but if the response was confusion, he would know that the person was different.

And he might get more of an insight on the persons thought process.

Unfortunately he only realized his mistake after an hour of radio silence. Sure, it wasn't that hard a question, but not one that was easy to answer succinctly. He cursed.

Why is it no matter what he did he seemed to cause more trouble for the person on the other side of this dumb link?

He was almost giving up on a response for the evening when his thigh tingled.

_dunno_

...How the hell did this person answer in a vague enough way that Kyle had no freaking idea if he was referencing Kyle's previous answer or just plain confused that some random asshole was asking him questions on his flesh?!

Kyle eyed the marks again. It was the same writing style though. Not that handwriting really played much of a part when it came to this sort of thing but it looked the same to him.

Also, he was pretty sure the sane response if it was a stranger asking a question like that was 'what the fuck?'. At least in Kyle's mind.

This created new problems though.

Why did every answer he got lead to more questions?!

He decided he had to ask one more question before he went to bed. He wouldn't be able to sleep if his curiosity wasn't sated.

How the fuck did you ask someone if they were a ghost though?

Keep it simple, he reminded himself, just ask it plainly.

_did you die?_

He really wished his personality would allow him to take short-cuts and just write 'u'. His hip hurt.

He didn't think he'd get a reply. Much less one before he went to sleep.

He realized it was probably a bad idea to ask before bed when the reply came quickly but hesitantly.

_yeah sorta_

Oh. Great.

He was haunted.

He was never going to fucking sleep again.

Dazedly, he went to the bathroom to bandage up the conversation. And then went to Ike's room to sleep on the little guys floor.

Just. No.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

This... was not ideal.

Why did he _ask questions?!_

Kyle moaned to himself the entire night through, causing his little brother dub him insane and also get quite upset at the unwelcome invasion.

\--

"Dude. You look like you saw a ghost. You okay?"

Just him and Stan walking to school. Normal life. Yay. Good normal life.

He was _haunted_.

"Stan. I think I kind of did?"

He didn't like how it sounded out loud. Stan was giving him a quizzical look.

"Oh, hey! Don't usually see you guys in the morning!" a pair of smaller hands grabbed his elbow and he looked down at the cheerful face of Karen McCormick. Her older brother only just behind her looking just as enthusiastic for the day.

Well, until he saw Kyle's face.

"Woah, dude, you okay? Did your mom catch you jacking off or something?"

Kyle was honestly too distraught to find disgust at the tasteless joke. Instead he looked away and tried to find words.

He found them. They just weren't great words.

"Do you guys... believe in ghosts?"

He wasn't looking at anyone. He really didn't want to see their expressions.

Kenny was the first to respond, "What, you mean like scary ghosts or kinky ghosts? Like that one ghost that gave a blowjob in Ghost Busters or that ghost that kept screaming about shit through a painting?"

Stan snorted, "Painting ghost was _not_ scary."

"Scared me plenty. So what kind of ghost?" Kenny's face invaded his vision for an eyebrow waggle, "Sexy ghost? Did you have an _encounter_?"

Kyle tried not to laugh, it was a bit hard, "That's aliens." he failed.

"There's that smile! I was a bit worried about you there, Broflovski! So what was it that had you so serious?"

Kenny sighed, "I think I might be haunted."

"Wait, for real?" Stan sounded incredulous.

Kyle nodded, still not really wanting to look at anyone.

Kenny's face was still within range, what was visible of it at least, and he looked a little serious, "Why do you say that?"

Should he tell them?

What could it hurt?

He didn't want to admit that he'd resorted to writing messages the way he had. It was shameful. What if they told his mom and she child-proofed his entire life in response? She'd make such a fuss.

But would they believe him if he didn't say that part?

Though between them not believing him and his mother finding out, his mother was and would always be the worst option.

"I don't know... I've been thinking about my soul mate and a lot of the weird bruises and stuff and a part of me kind of worried that the reason it's so weird is I'm being haunted."

He wished it sounded less lame.

"What's weird about your soul mate?" trust kind small Karen to ask so non-judgmentally. What a good child. Ike could learn to be more sympathetic instead of kicking him out.

Her question did strike up another issue though. He belatedly recalled that he'd never told either McCormick about the fades. He preferred less people know about it. Shoot.

And now they were getting rather close to school...

Kyle sighed and ruffled her hair, "I'll tell you later, okay? It's a bit complicated."

Stan nodded in agreement, "It's pretty weird actually. Freaks me the heck out."

He mentally thanked Stan for backing him up. He felt less crazy-sounding.

Kenny was silent.

Kyle wished he'd said something because silence made him feel like he fucked up.

For now he'd just have to get through the day and think about how he'd explain the fades.

Oh, and figure out how he was going to deal with being _haunted_.

\--

He managed to avoid the topic for two whole days before he got cornered. Stan didn't care as much but Karen had enlisted him as her subordinate and it was hard to disobey the kid. Kenny, already being Karen's subordinate from day one, led to a 3-on-1 situation.

After his initial terror over being haunted he'd second-guessed whether he should tell anyone period. And he still wasn't hot on telling anyone about the fades. And also talking to his maybe-crush Kenny about his soul mate just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

But Karen's curiosity had been piqued.

She waited until Friday at least. He didn't want to talk about it at school.

But now he had the three of them following him home, Stan humming while he held Kyle's house key. A reminder that there was no getting out of this.

He squirmed, "It's really not that interesting guys, I may have over-reacted."

Stan shrugged, "I know it's boring, but boss says we gotta investigate so my hands are tied. Sorry, Kyle, I value my job."

Kenny nodded sagely.

Karen _beamed_.

Goddamnit. He couldn't say no to that face.

" _Fine_. But I swear it's not that interesting."

Kenny snorted, "You said your soul mate might be a ghost that's haunting you. I'd say that's pretty entertaining."

"I didn't say that _exactly_. Just that I might be haunted and also it might have something to do with my weird soul mate marks."

Kenny gave him a look, "So, Kyle, 1 plus 1 equals...?"

"Pff, shut up." He couldn't resist smiling a little, "I _may_ have considered that as a possibility. But I still don't know."

Karen's eyes gleamed, "Which is exactly why I'm going to get to the bottom of the mystery!"

"...my hero?"

It was hard to say with Karen. She might save you or sass you into an early grave.

Well, at least the advantage of the skinny McCormick's following him home was they were sure to get over-fed by his mom. Last time he was pretty sure they'd gained five pounds in snacks alone.

Kyle wondered how his mom would react if he did date Kenny. She welcomed easy enough as a friend but how would it go if they were dating? He strained to remember his moms exact thoughts on sexuality.

He honestly hadn't asked. Partially because he feared the answer and partially because he'd never been interested enough in anyone of either gender enough for it to be worth the question.

The reasoning there caught up with him and struggled with the internal debate it contained the rest of the trip home.

Did thinking about his moms reaction mean he was serious?

He wasn't sure he was ready for the answer.

First, ghost soul mate. Then... maybe Kenny. Strong maybe.

If the guy was even interested.

His mom welcomed the troupe with literal open arms and he had to pry poor Karen out of the suffocating grasp to get them all upstairs.

"Your mom is so friendly!" Karen looked a bit jazzed, "It's weird, but cool too."

He tried not to think of the implications and instead just ruffled her hair.

When they'd settled in his room he'd almost thought the distractions and snacks were enough to deter the entire conversation.

" _So_ , ghost soul mate."

Damn you, Kenny.

He sighed, "Okay... remember how I said my soul mate is a bit accident prone?"

"Vaguely. Was it hot?" Kenny asked.

"Not really." Karen added.

"I'd like to forget." Stan finished.

Terrible friends, the lot of them.

He rolled his eyes despite the now upward curve of his lips, "So, basically, my soul mate has always sustained a ton of injuries. Since forever. Which would be bad enough because when I researched it online it said that the most likely reasons were child abuse," he tried to skim that part as quickly as possible, for his audiences sake, "But at one point the injuries were really severe and then faded."

Karen's eyes widened, "They _died_?! Then--that bruise I saw before--" she fidgeted, "I thought you said..."

"I was telling the truth." Urgh, this was definitely going to sound crazy, at least Stan was here to back him up, "After awhile marks started appearing again like normal and then awhile after that, I had another fade."

Karen's eyes were blown wide, "Holy _shit_ , that's spooky!"

Kyle nodded, "It's bugged me for awhile now but I thought for a long time it might be a skin condition or something."

Stan laughed at him a little, "No, you obsessively insisted it was a skin condition and got _super_ pissed at anyone that said different, going on rants about how soul mates are bullshit anyway."

Kyle glared at him, "Thanks, Stan. Great way to be the better man right there."

The shit-eating grin wasn't at all tarnished, "Just doing my job. I've been assigned bullshit sniffer."

"You suck."

Karen disrupted them, "You said that happened a long time ago though, why are you suddenly so sure it's a ghost now?"

"I'm not _sure_ , I just... ugh, I don't know. I think I've just accepted that it's not a skin condition--stop sniggering Stan--and I started considering other options, you know?"

"So you jump to ghosts?" Stan was not helpful.

"I don't know, it's a start, right? I mean why the hell else would I keep having fades?"

Karen looked thoughtful, "Maybe it's someone with a lot of near death experiences? Like, they get _so_ close to death that it tricks your body?"

Kyle considered the option, again, "I've thought about that one before... and I'm not saying it's off the table, but sometimes the marks will start reappearing as soon as a day later and none of the previous injuries are there... plus..."

Karen leaned forward, hanging on his every word. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell her this. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell anyone this.

"The last time they faded... I saw what looked like a gunshot wound to the head."

Karen gasped and Stan looked distraught, "Dude, you didn't tell me that."

He shrugged weakly, "I didn't really know how to process it... I don't know. It's just... it's a bit weird and I've been trying to figure it out."

Karen puffed her chest out with confidence, "You have come to the right detective agency!" more seriously she touched his hand, "Don't worry Kyle, we'll figure out what's going on."

He actually felt a bit comforted.

Until he realized it felt like they were one person short.

Kenny hadn't said a word the entire time. Kyle had been avoiding looking at him out of embarrassment but now he was a bit panicked to think there hadn't been even one snark or badly placed innuendo from the boy. Or anything.

Kenny wasn't looking at him either. He really looked like a giant faceless orange blob, eyes trained on the floor so intently that Kyle could barely see his face.

"Kenny? You okay?"

Kenny didn't move for a moment. He was going to ask again when suddenly the blob was on his feet, still looking away, "I... I gotta go."

"Kenny?" Karen's voice sounded a little scared.

Kenny didn't stop and left the inhabitants of the room to stew in confusion.

Stan was the first to speak, "He need to shit or something?"

Karen was frowning at the door, like showing it enough dissatisfaction would force it to bring back her wayward underling.

Kyle felt oddly rejected.

That was another reason he didn't want to tell the McCormick's.

It was confessing to what he'd done. Seen the injuries for years, known their implications, and hidden behind the excuse of a skin condition to absolve him from responsibility.

Karen didn't seem to care about it but perhaps Kenny did.

He put things together fast. He probably noticed immediately what an asshole Kyle was being.

Shit.

He wanted to cry.

Stan might have been right.

It hurt more than he thought for Kenny to reject him.

Kenny seemed so hard to piss off, but Kyle had succeeded.

It hurt.

\--

Kenny was avoiding him.

It had been over a week.

Karen and Stan denied it. Claimed he was over-thinking it. It was hard to believe them when he'd seen Kenny in the hall and the other boy had literally about faced and walked the other way.

"He probably didn't see you." Karen reasoned.

Kenny was taking on more hours than ever, missing a genuinely distressing amount of school.

"You know he prioritizes work over school, he's only really here for a quick diploma." Stan shrugged.

Kyle thought they were both being silly. He wasn't five. He could handle one of his friends avoiding him. They didn't need to treat him with kid gloves.

He could totally handle that Kenny hated his guts now and couldn't even stand to look at him.

Totally.

Besides, he deserved it. He was a jerk. He'd been selfish and self-serving and--

Kenny McCormick, in all his orangey blob glory, had been approaching the school from the opposite direction. Early shift at City Wok if he to guess. Locked eyes on him and fucking changed course.

Kyle realized in that moment he could very much not handle this situation. It was completely out of his hands and he was just _not very good at emotions_.

Specifically, he was pretty fucking terrible at holding his temper.

"Oh, he did fucking _not_ \--!"

"Wait, Kyle--" Stan was close enough to spot the doom on the horizon but not nearly quick enough to get ahold of Kyle before he sped off after the blob. He sighed, "I told Kenny it was a bad idea to avoid him."

Kyle understood and respected that Kenny might hate him forever. Sure. Fine. He could live with that.

This? Bullshit, pussy-ass, fucking dodging the problem, refusing to talk to him, making his baby sister cover his ass--

Kenny literally didn't know what hit him when all of a sudden, not a block away from the school, he was rammed by a force of pure petty rage. He didn't even have time to lose his balance before the force whirled him around to grab his collar and force them eye-to-eye, "What the _fuck_ is your problem?"

"Kyle?"

His confusion was met with ferocity, "So you remember my name, _good_ , care to explain why the fuck you've been avoiding me?!"

"I--"

Kyle cut him off, "No, wait, I don't even want to hear it! I _get_ it! You hate my guts now! You could at least be man enough to tell me to my face instead of running away like a jerk! I get it though, it's okay! I deserve it."

"Tha--"

"No, wait, it's _not_ okay! You don't get to run the fuck off without saying anything! And okay, I know I fucked up, but it's not like I'm still fucking up! I'm actively _trying_ to figure this shit out, instead of running away!"

"Uh--"

" _Fine_ , trying to figure it out isn't good enough! I know! But it's still just shitty of you to just--just--ARGH!"

"...can I say, anything?"

" _What_?!"

Kenny laughed. It was a nice sound. Kyle felt some anger ebb away at the sound of it. It returned when he realized who Kenny was probably laughing at, but it was such a long and tensionless laugh he couldn't quite remember why he was yelling at Kenny.

Oh, yeah. The guy was avoiding him.

Kyle felt pink around the edges and released the boys color, realizing that he'd been yelling straight into Kenny's poor face.

Kenny got the giggles out of him and took an anxious breath before he spoke.

"Dude, look, I'm sorry about avoiding you. ("--HA! I knew it!") I know it was shitty, I just had to think some stuff through."

"What stuff?" it made him nervous, what if he _had_ been right about Kenny's thought process...

Kenny shifted uncomfortably, "I haven't really worked it all out yet. I sort of had a suspicion confirmed? And I was trying to figure out how I felt about it and stuff and I just... I didn't really want to talk to anyone until I'd figured it out."

"...that was vague as fuck. Care for answer that actually provides any?" so Kyle might still be a _little_ pissed. It was hard for him to cool down when he heated all the way up.

Kenny looked up at the sky for a bit thoughtfully before gesturing for Kyle to follow him. Kyle realized, belatedly, that they were skipping school. He was going to regret this later.

Later was later though and right now he wanted to figure out what the hell had crawled up Kenny's butt.

They walked at an even pace in silence for awhile before the last bit of anger finally ebbed away and Kyle suddenly felt terrible, "Oh dude, I screamed straight into your face, that was so shitty. I'm sorry. Shit, I'm really sorry."

It was worse when he considered the way Karen tended to flinch away from loud voices. Kenny oddly never seemed to mind them but Kyle knew the guy was quite good at concealing discomfort. Also, he recalled, hated pity.

Great, now he felt like an even bigger jerk.

Kenny shrugged it away easily, "I've been through worse, don't worry about it."

Kyle shook his head, "No, just because you've experienced worse doesn't mean I should do shit like that. It's shitty and I'm sorry. I... I have a bad temper," he gulped, Kenny was going to hate him even more, "and when I lose my shit I get stupid. I'm sorry, that's no excuse. It won't happen again, man."

"Seriously, it's fine, don't worry about it."

"I will worry about it... but I'll drop it for now." Kyle conceded, deciding that arguing through an apology was maybe a shitty way to apologize.

"I can live with that." Kenny smiled and Kyle realized he could see it. The blob had pulled down a bit of his parka and Kyle could see his smile and hear his voice un-muffled, the sight made his nerves spike, "Look, Kyle... I'm still not sure if I'm comfortable with talking about this but... I do probably owe you an explanation."

Kenny had pulled down his hood and Kyle didn't know he was blond. It was a pretty color too. Messy locks and blue eyes and a handsome smile... focus, Kyle, the goal is figure out why Kenny was being avoidant, not ogle him.

"Did I do something to piss you off?" Kyle figured it was better to rip off that band aid before he spent more time memorizing the guys features.

Kenny shook his stupidly handsome face, Kyle hated him a little, "No, not really... well, sorta, but not for the reasons you'd think?" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "It's really complicated and I'm not sure you'd even believe me for all of it."

"I told you I'm haunted by a ghost soul-mate and you doubt my ability to believe the unusual?"

Kenny laughed again at that and shit, it sounded even better when it wasn't muffled by his hood, Kyle was a dead man, "Yeah, about that..."

Oh, god, Kyle had been right, hadn't he? Kenny was upset because of the uneasy parallels his soul mate had with Kenny's position in life and Kyle's shit response. Shit. He forgot to breathe a little while he waited for Kenny to finish.

"...what if I told you I know for a fact it's not a ghost?"

Kyle blinked, honestly taken aback, that hadn't been what he'd expected at all, "I'd wonder how you know?"

Kenny looked at the sky again as if it might provide him with some answers, or courage, Kyle wasn't sure.

Finally Kenny looked down and began to scuff his feet on the ground a bit as he walked, something in his internal debate bugging him, "Hey... uh... Kyle? What do you think about soul mates?"

At least it was a question Kyle knew the answer to.

"I think the 'mark' system is dumb and whatever god thought it up is a thoughtless jerk. Outside of that... I think it should be treated more like guidelines, you know? A lot of people treat it like the end-all be-all of a relationship. Sort of like they shouldn't have to work to make each other happy, it should just happen 'magically' because 'soul-mates' and that's always bugged me. I think that's why I was so opposed to having one for so long, to be honest, it felt like people put too much stock into it and it just frustrated me a lot."

"Hmm..." Kenny was still looking down, "I thought it sounded nice, to be honest, someone that was made for you and was very likely to love you in some capacity. It's kind of a comforting thought when shit gets hard, ya know? But for a long time my soul mate never got injured, at least not obviously enough, and I started to think maybe I didn't have one."

Kyle had never before heard Kenny share so much about himself. He was completely absorbed in listening.

"But then, when I was about eight or nine, one finally appeared. I'm pretty sure my soul mate had surgery judging by the placement and shape of the scar. Bad kidney if I had to guess but I'm really not the best at biology, despite my skills in anatomy," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Kyle rolled his eyes, at least Kenny was still joking even if he was being strangely serious overall.

Wait...

"Anyway that was the most I saw in the way of marks for a really long time after that and I kind of wondered if that was all it would ever amount to, ya know? A kidney scar and a vague person that would probably care about me. I didn't think a lot about how many of my injuries were going over to their side either. Just didn't occur to me somehow."

Kenny finally looked up a little and smiled at him, "And then we started school and met you and Stan, and shit was pretty great so I didn't think about it then either. I had other stuff on the mind."

Kyle tried to calm his pulse. Puzzle pieces were clicking together in his head but so many things still didn't make any sense and really, his current suspicions were just _too_ convenient.

And terrifying.

Kenny's voice shook a little with nerves, "And then one day a message appears on my hip asking me how I'm doing."

Kyle felt like the ground beneath him was wobbling. He focused on staying upright. Kenny, meanwhile, lifted up his parka just a bit to reveal a _very_ familiar scar around the kidneys.

"Holy shit."

Kenny smiled a little more easily, "I know, right?"

 

\--

Stan passed Karen a juice box from his bag, "Think they're coming back?"

Karen shook her head, "Nah, Kenny's been pretty smitten since fairly early on and judging by the way Kyle reacted, I'd say it's mutual."

Stan nodded in agreement, "Any idea why Kenny's marks fade like that?"

"Nah, Kenny won't tell me. I figure that Kyle says it's happened multiple times and Kenny isn't dead, so it's probably nothing I need to worry about too much."

"Fair enough, want an apple-slice?" 

"You know me so well."

**Author's Note:**

> im actually really dissatisfied with this >x>;;;;;; im not a big fan of soulmate aus tbh but i decided to challenge myself to write some because reasons. anywho idk, i kinda wrote this because i had a slow day at work and it feels really dull to me, i feel like i got lazy and cut a lot of corners because im not a fan of the au x<;;;;;; i think i should have focused less on the budding romance and more on the implications of kennys repeated deaths, this could have been a p interesting horror/mystery if i wasnt obsessed with writing terrible shippy nonsense //sigh// lost potential  
> sorry for the vent XD;;;; if i look back at it more positively later maybe i'll come back to this
> 
> (ok but one thing i did kinda love was the mostly off screen karen/stan brotp. idk i just like giving karen friends/screentime, she is a good girl)


End file.
